


The Worst Possible Scenario

by Alphawulf



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: M/M, and like said parents being homophobic, but yeah, i was inspired to write this after reading lrceleste's fic static, it's such a cool au though, its the soulmate au, kind of teenscast too i think, smiffy doesn't know ross or trott yet, there's mention of a parent hitting their child in this, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 14:05:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2814692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphawulf/pseuds/Alphawulf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There exists a machine that, if used, allows one to hear their soulmate's voice, if they happen to be talking. Smiff's parents never kept one around, to discourage their son from using it before they deem him ready. But tomorrow's his birthday, and they can't wait to hear what his future wife's voice sounds like.<br/>Frankly, he couldn't care less.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Worst Possible Scenario

Smiffy had never used one of those machines before. Sure, he knew of soulmates and heard his classmates talk about using the machines, going on and on about the voices they’ve heard and how cute/handsome she/he sounded, but his parents hadn’t let him try it out. They wanted him to wait 'til he turned fourteen. He didn’t see why it mattered, or why that specific age. Most of his classmates had already listened to their soulmate’s voice by the age of ten, but his family was a bit more traditional. They saw it as improper to use the machine so early in life. Blah blah.

Luckily tomorrow was his fourteenth birthday.

He could hear his parents downstairs, chatting away _oh aren’t you excited_ and _they grow up so fast don’t they_ and _what do you think she’ll sound like?_ and  _d_ _o you think she goes to his school?_

Honestly, even though he was vaguely curious to hear his soulmate’s voice, he wasn’t too excited. In fact, he was feeling a little embarrassed. His parents were making such a big deal of it. He just wanted to listen once, so he could know who his soulmate was when he met her, then be done with the machine.

His parents’ conversation drifted to the details of tomorrow and he tuned them out, putting earbuds in and tuning up the music as he pretended to do his homework (homework over break? Who does that??), preferring instead to doodle along the margins of the paper. Fuck math. Fuck it so hard.

He found himself vaguely hoping that his soulmate wouldn’t be talking at all when they tried to tune in. Or at least she won’t say anything embarrassing. That would be such a shit first impression on his parents. They’d probably hold it against his poor soulmate.

He ended up pushing his math book and notebook off of his bed, stretching, flopping on his bed.

Even through his music, he could hear footsteps going up the stairs. Probably the rest of the house going to sleep.

Good.

Waiting for half an hour to pass after hearing them settle down to sleep. The usual.

Unlike his parents, he was far less conventional. He snuck out into the hall-not the window as he usually did-and silently went downstairs.

He wanted to hear his soulmate’s voice before his parents, just to prepare. He hoped she was awake at this hour, (while that may mean she liked to stay up late, it could also mean she was many time zones away, in which case that would kinda suck).

Turning the knob that (probably) controlled the volume (in hopefully the quieter direction), he wondered how exactly this device worked. They’d never had one in the house until yesterday, when an aunt brought over the one his grandma had when she was alive. It was kind of a special family heirloom, although he was questioning how it even still worked. If it even still worked. He’d seen some tv shows where characters use it. They just place their hand on the side, hold in a button, and a voice would filter through.

Deep breath. This was it. This is when he would first hear his soulmate. He vaguely wondered if she’s ever listened for his voice?

He pressed the button.   

“ _-Shit! You bastar-_ ”  His hand jerked back like the machine burned him. That. Was a male voice. He blinked in confusion at the machine. He’d heard his parents talk about his soulmate so much, using feminine pronouns, he never really questioned…

He knew that same-sex soulmates exist, there were a few people at his school who are gay, and he just. There was never a reason to think about that, knowing that whatever this machine said would kind of decide for him. The fake-wooden thing sat there, silent, and he eyed it warily.

The button was pushed again.

“ _-Ahaha! Eat shit! Ea-_ ” He found himself dreading tomorrow even more than he already was. His parents were gonna _hate_ this.

~*~*~

His family made him have a small party at home, with them, promising to let him have a party with friends the next day. They had to start sometime after his dad got home from work, so it started pretty far into the day. It was already starting to get dark.

He forced himself to stop staring out the window, instead idly staring at the cake slice on his plate, picking at it slowly with a fork. His mother tilted her head.

“Something wrong? You should be ecstatic!” Yeah yeah. Birthday and soulmate shit he gets it. But he was pretty sure his parents were gonna kill him after he presses that button. They...don’t get along with people who aren’t straight.

“‘M fine” He shrugged, forcing himself to eat a few bites. After a bit, when his parents were both done with the first slice of cake, she clapped her hands together.

“You ready to hear your soulmate’s voice for the very first time?” Damn she sounded so excited. Shouldn’t that be how he felt? He was the one ‘about to’ find out who he was gonna spend his life with.

With a vague nauseous feeling, he nodded and stood up, wiping sweaty palms on his jeans. He looked back, toward his practically-buzzing-with-excitement mom and his proud-and-not-at-all-stoic dad. Memorized their faces. Maybe they would be ok with this. Maybe it would be just fine.

His hand found the button and pushed it in. At first there was only static. At first, he thought there was a chance that his soulmate wasn't awake.

" _-O no no look, you have t-_ ” He let his hand fall away, looking at the machine in confusion. He didn’t register his mom dropping her fork, or see the way his dad’s hand was clenched tight. That wasn’t the same voice. Maybe the machine was fucked. It was so old, maybe it was just broadcasting random voices. He turned around, waving his hands about, saying _wait wait wait wait_ but his dad’s stare froze him in place.

“Push it again.” The voice is calm, emotionless. He swallows and nods, ignoring his mother’s shocked expression. He pressed the button in for the third time.

What happened utterly baffled the boy. Two voices, not one but two, came on, arguing with _each other_ over who knows what. They interrupted each other and made witty comebacks and lots of swears were thrown about, each of which he could hear punctuated by his mother’s gasps. There was the gruffer voice from the night before, and the new voice. Both coming from the box.

And they _knew_ each other. His hand left the machine, and he was just stood there, staring blankly at the machine, completely unable to comprehend what the hell just happened.

That’s when something whapped him upside the head and he, caught off guard, fell to the floor. His dad loomed over him, a cold expression on his face.

"Room. Now.” His dad said, voice low and Smiff complied because, hell, he could hear the barely concealed rage behind that statement and he did not want that rage to be focused on him just yet. By the time he reached the top of the stairs, he realized he was shaking, and the air felt too warm and stuffy, and the back of his head throbbed slightly with each frantic heartbeat. He entered (and locked) his room as a loud discussion began downstairs, his dad’s voice easily heard. He couldn’t hear his mother’s voice, but his dad sounded accusatory.

Meanwhile, Smiff dumped out his backpack, shoved some clothes and other random shit into it, and opened his window. He drunk in the cool air, thanking any deity out there that it was dark out, and climbed out onto the roof. He walked along, to the corner, nearly slipping a few times, one leg going off the roof once as his heart jumped to his throat, but he didn’t slow down. He felt like there was something looming over him. He needed to get away.

And he knew where to.

Clumsily, he tried to scale down the wall using the vines, but halfway down his fingers, numb from the cold, gave up and he fell. His backpack cushioned his fall, nearly knocking the air out of his lungs, but he rolled over and forced himself up, feet fumbling to stay underneath him as he ran. He colulda sworn he just heard his dad yell his name, faintly, through his open window. He kept running.

A few blocks away, he stopped to catch his breath, night air scratching his throat, mind reeling. He resumed his mission of getting away from his house, but at a slower pace.

What the hell just happened. What was wrong with that machine? Two voices? Nobody ever said a goddamned thing about two voices. The thing must be fucked. And his...his dad hit him! Actually hit him! He idly rubbed the back of his head, noting how it stung.

He felt oddly numb, finding himself unable to process the whole thing. He needed someone to talk to.

Eight minutes later and he was knocking quietly on a window, hoping his friend was home. He heard footsteps, then the blinds opened, revealing a pale teen. Sips grinned at him and opened the window, allowing for Smiff to get into the room.

"Happy birthday, you piece of shit. How was it?” Smiff’s stomach churned and he looked up to his friend. Sips’ smile faltered.

"What happened?”

"Life’s decided to take a shit on me.” Smiff said, shrugging his backpack off and sitting on the floor, pressing his forehead into his knees. He felt (and heard) a thunk, knowing his friend sat next to him.

"Well? Go on.” Sips said, and Smiff sighed.

"C...can I check one thing real quick?” He asked, turning his head in time to see his friend nod. “Can I use your Machine?” Sips’ face showed confusion for only a few seconds before he nodded again.

"Yeah, sure buddy. One sec.” And he went to get it. Before he could decide if using the machine again was a good idea, Sips was back and placed the machine on the ground between them. He looked at his friend before pushing in the button, and the two voices were back to haunt him. He saw Sips’ eyes widen, just a bit, and his heart thumped harder. It wasn’t just their old ass machine messing up, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He just kept looking at Sips, oddly calm with those voices around him. They were still talking to each other, but less harshly than before. He withdrew his hand, hugging his legs. 

"Shit.” Was all Sips said.

"Yeah."

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to post this before I talked myself out of it like I usually do. Sorry for any errors you may have read. And sorry for any ooc-ness. Never written Smiffy or Sips before. If you got to these notes, then thanks for reading!
> 
> Also there was gonna be more to this but I got lazy/uninspired so this is it.


End file.
